


On and Off the Ice

by Anonymous



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cheering Up, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Mild Angst, POV Katsuki Yuuri, POV Yuri Plisetsky, Pet Names, Post Season 1, Post canon, Retired Yuuri, Speaking Russian, Worlds, Yuri is sad, coach victor, cooking together, general cuteness, retired victor, talks, victuurio, waking up together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 20:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10794594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "You feel like you failed," he surmises, voice soft.Yuri nods. His bottom lip juts out just a bit. Yuuri reaches out to cup Yuri's chin, coaxing him to turn and meet his eyes. Before he can think on it for too long, Yuuri leans forward to press a kiss to Yuri's lower lip, takes it gently between his own before pulling away."You didn't fail," he says firmly, watching the color rise bright pink in Yuri's cheeks.





	On and Off the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some domestic Victor/Yuuri/Yuri. So here we are.
> 
> Takes place after Worlds. Rated T for some language you can blame Yuri for.

They all make the podium. 

It should be a wonderful feeling— both his partners standing beside him, the entire Katsuki-Nikiforov-Plisetsky household center stage and gleaming with medals, with flushed faces and white teeth. Caught like this in the bright flash of cameras. 

Yuri Plisetsky does not smile. He's proudly Russian and also, privately, a little angry. No one will notice though and he holds out his bronze with a neutral expression. 

Beside him, Katsuki Yuuri glows. It's his first gold. He is radiant, teary-eyed, and so deserving.

Victor, on Yuuri's other side, holds up his silver medal. To the figure skating world, he'll look proud of his last accomplishment, surprising as it may be to have his student surpass him, but when his gaze slides to hold fast to Yuri's, it's clear he's genuinely proud of Yuuri for winning, for beating him. Proud of Yuri too. For Victor, things could not be better.

He doesn't kiss his silver medal. 

He kisses Yuuri instead.

Yuri makes a face. His bronze medal settles too heavy around his neck when he lets it drop. The camera flashes are abrasive at this point and he scowls openly into the lenses, then at what appears to be a hug to those at the wrong angle, to anyone who hasn't skated and lived with Victor and Yuuri.

Victor whispers something against the curve of Yuuri's cheek and Yuri skates back reflexively when he spots the devious sparkle in Victor's eye. But it's Yuuri who reaches back to catch Yuri's wrist with cold fingers, pulling him easily into their embrace. 

They know not to kiss him in public but his cheeks heat up anyway with their proximity. They have an awkward three-person hug, arms looping around each other, the sequins on Yuuri's costume kind of scratchy against his side. Yuri forgets about the cameras when Victor head-butts him and lifts a hand to rub his hair. Yuri resists the urge to groan in pleasure. Yuuri smiles brilliantly. 

Their medals knock together and it feels symbolic or some shit. Yuri smiles. Just a little.

"Alright," he says. "Let's get this over with and eat before I die of starvation."

-

The first morning back in their St. Petersburg apartment, Yuuri blinks into wakefulness. The sun shines weakly through the window and the bed is empty and cold under the arm he has stretched across the white sheets. 

Yuri is already up. His phone is gone from its spot on the nightstand. 

Behind him, Victor stirs and wraps his arms tighter around Yuuri's waist under his sleep shirt. But his breath is still even with sleep and Yuuri doesn't have the heart to wake him. 

He maneuvers his way out of Victor's grasp and sits up, stretching. Victor turns over, murmuring sleepily before settling into the blankets again. Yuuri smiles at the sight. Victor deserves it, he thinks. To relax. To not worry about pleasing anyone but himself and, by extension, his family, for now. Their retirement stretches open and hopeful before them and while they'll never stray from the ice, Yuuri looks forward to the new adventures he'll have with them.

He pads to the bathroom first, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table on the way, then slips on some of Victor's sweat pants, which are too long on him and somehow don't look as good as they do on Victor but they're warm. Yuuri calls to Makkachin, who hops down from the bed to nudge Yuuri's legs. Yuuri scratches him behind the ears. "Come on. Let's go tell Yuri good morning."

He finds Yuri in the kitchen. He's curled almost defensively in a chair and recognizable only in the dim light by the cat ears on his hoodie. The ears fall forward. Beneath the hood is nothing but shadows and Yuuri hesitates to turn on the light for fear of intruding. But he can't leave Yuri alone, not in this state. 

He mumbles a "Good morning," in Russian and flips the switch on the wall beside him. The room brightens. The atmosphere does not.

Makkachin plants himself beside Yuri's chair, pawing at him until he's tired of being ignored. He goes into the living room, leaving them alone together. Yuuri moves carefully to Yuri's other side.

Yuri mumbles something into the bend of his elbow. Otherwise, he stays the way he is, knees tucked to his chest, arms folded over them. Hoodie aside, he's wearing only black underwear and none of the clothes he bought in Helsinki. His phone lies face-down next to a full, untouched tea cup, and beside that sits jam with the spoon standing upright inside it. 

"Okay," Yuuri says. He rubs his nose beneath his glasses. "Okay, what's wrong?" 

Yuri mumbles something in response.

"Hmm?"

The hood slips halfway off his head as he sits up a little. "I said 'I'm fine'."

Yuuri looks between him and the open jam. "You didn't drink your tea."

"'S probably cold by now," Yuri grumbles. "Don't want it."

Yuuri sets about making more tea for both of them. It's quiet and calm- this is something Yuuri knows how to do. Taking care of others runs in his family and his mother taught him early on that proper healing begins with tea. 

He goes back to the table to sit beside Yuri, whose posture hasn't changed. Yuuri slides into the chair next to him and places both cups on the table. Yuuri sips at his own tea, watches Yuri curl a hand around the cup in front of him, enjoying the warmth before he sighs and tugs the jam closer so he can spoon it into his tea. His face is fully visible now and his expression is troubled, vulnerable. His hair curls a little under his chin. Yuuri reaches across the small space between them to brush the hair behind his ear, knuckles skimming Yuri's cheek. The tension in Yuri unwinds just a little.

They drink quietly.

"Feel better?" Yuuri asks, gaze straight ahead. He doesn't want to scare Yuri off.

"Yeah," is the response and Yuuri hides his smile of relief in his teacup.  
"What made you feel bad in the first place?" he ventures. 

"I wasn't—" Yuri sighs, the bite in his voice fading. "I mean, I won bronze."

"You did," Yuuri says, cheer wavering a little with his confusion. "Is that a problem?"

"The last time I did that was my first year of Juniors."

Yuuri pauses with his cup to his lips, startled. He sets it down. Yuri Plisetsky is truly talented. And he's looking to Katsuki Yuuri for support. It floors him. He knows that's part of what a relationship means, supporting and allowing yourself to be supported. But to see Yuri so vulnerable and doubtful of his own skills aches and he wants to help with this as much as he's worried he isn't qualified to. 

He forgets his own insecurities for a moment, forgets the gold medal he managed to win at Worlds. 

He turns to face Yuri.

"You feel like you failed," he surmises, first soft. 

Yuri nods. His bottom lip juts out just a bit. Yuuri reaches out to cup Yuri's chin, coaxing him to turn and meet his eyes. Before he can think on it for too long, Yuuri leans forward to press a kiss to Yuri's lower lip, takes it gently between his own before pulling away. 

"You didn't fail," he says firmly, watching the color rise bright pink in Yuri's cheeks. He's still unused to being comforted, to needing comfort at all, but unlike Yuuri he's able to accept it with the right amount of encouragement. It seems his mind does not betray him as often or as forcefully. 

"Feels like it," Yuri says. "And it's fucking embarrassing to feel like I failed. I thought it'd be fine knowing my grandpa is taken care of but— but it's not anything to be proud of regardless." Yuri lowers his gaze. "Not even if I wanted two of my favorite people to win more."

Yuuri chuckles, rubs his thumb along the delicate line of Yuri's jaw. He almost says, 'I know what it's like,' but he doesn't, really, and he can't make this about him. And last year's Grand Prix is still a sore spot. 

"It is something to be proud of," he says instead, and it must be right because green eyes flick up to meet his, tentative.

" _Vitya_ and I are both proud of you. Everyone is proud of you." He smiles. "And winning with you— skating with you— it was amazing."

For some reason, Yuri pulls his face away, walls slamming into place. He glares down into his half-empty teacup. 

Yuuri withdraws his hand, runs it shakily through his hair. Okay. So now he knows how it feels to be on the other side of this. With Victor, all he has to do is listen and kiss and tuck away stray hair and remind him how 100% okay it is to be openly Not Okay. With Yuri, there's barbed wire to edge around and walls to scale only to get to a place that is slightly less dangerous than usual. And one wrong move can send you right back where you started. 

" _Yura_ ," he tries. "Yuri- _kun_."

"Was?" Yuri demands between his teeth. "Fuck you and your fucking 'was'."

Yuuri exhales through his nose. "I'm sorry," he says. "I don't understand."

"You're retiring."

Yuuri blinks, realization dawning. "Oh, _Yura_."

Yuri stiffens at the softness of his tone, buries his face in his arms again, but Yuuri presses on. "Are you upset because we're not competing anymore? I thought you'd be glad." He smiles at the back of Yuri's head. 

"I'm not. I'm pissed. You and _Vitya_ are going to go off and learn how to ski or some shit and leave me."

 _Ski?_ Yuuri shakes his head. "We won't leave you," he says with some disapproval. "We could never do that. Retiring doesn't change anything between us. You're our partner and we care about you." Yuuri lowers his hand to gently pet Yuri's hair, his engagement ring glinting in the morning sun. It was probably a good idea to find one for Yuri soon. Something from both his lovers to keep when they were apart, to remind him of Yuuri and Victor on and off the ice. "Please don't worry about our retirement. All it means is that we feel we're both done competing. We'll still skate. We would still support you even if _Vitya_ wasn't coaching you. We would never leave you out there alone."

Yuri peers up at him through his messy hair. There is a clear warning in his eyes, one Yuuri heeds. In a rare moment of impulsivity, Yuuri tightens his hand in Yuri's hair and calls upon his tremulous Russian to tell Yuri, "We love you, _Yurochka_ ," in his own language. 

Yuri seems to understand. He shoots up in his chair and kisses Yuuri hard. It's sudden and a little painful, messy in a way only Yuri can be. Yuri swallows the little gasp of surprise Yuuri makes and sucks on his tongue. It isn't long before Yuuri takes control of the kiss, eyes slipping shut, hands cupping Yuri's face and sliding into his hair. He scratches Yuri's scalp in the way he knows he likes, smirking into the kiss when Yuri purrs. Yuri kisses with abandon, all tongue and teeth, and Yuuri meets him there. What he has learned to do from being with Victor he uses with Yuri and it serves them well in the few months they've been together.

When Yuri draws away to gasp for air, his forehead pressed to Yuuri's, Victor's voice pulls their attention away from each other. "I missed a heartfelt conversation _and_ a morning make-out session?" 

Yuuri looks over, cheeks heating despite himself, to see Victor watching them with a pout. 

Yuri shoves away from Yuuri and downs the rest of his tea. He drags his mouth across his sleeve.

"Good morning, _Vitya_ ," Yuuri greets him as Victor strolls over to stand behind his chair. He's dressed in one of Yuuri's shirts. Victor wraps him in a warm hug and kisses his hair before tipping Yuuri's chin up to bring their mouths together. The kiss is sweet and exploratory, like Victor wants to reacquaint himself with Yuuri after the night. It goes on a little longer than Yuuri would consider proper for a good-morning kiss. The smile Victor gives when he pulls away tells Yuuri he knows it, too. 

He pounces on Yuri next, throwing his arms around him from behind and rocking them both from side to side despite Yuri's protests. He ducks his head to whisper Russian in Yuri's ear. The words seem to calm him and Victor takes the opportunity to nuzzle the side of his neck. 

Yuuri can only understand the words for 'here' and 'always'.

Then Victor moves to the other side of the counter. "Hungry?" he asks with a wry intensity only Victor can pull off after just waking up. 

Yuri nearly shouts an affirmative. Yuuri smiles and nods. 

"Okay! сы́рники?"

"I don't care, just feed me," Yuri says. 

Victor and Yuri banter back and forth before Victor convinces him to help. Yuri concedes with, "I mean someone has to show the Japanese guy what good breakfast is."

"Hey!" Yuuri says, at the same time Victor chides, "Be nice, Yurio."

While his lovers bicker over food preparations, Yuuri goes to fetch the sour cream from the refrigerator. He wants more mornings like this. And while things will get more hectic with the start of the next season, Yuuri is looking forward to waking up next to Victor and Yuri. To slipping a ring on Yuri's finger with his fiancé by his side. To perhaps marrying both of them someday, in whatever form they can manage. To hugging Yuri before he performs and watching Victor watch him, seeing up close the calculation and surprise there. To staying close to both of them on and off the ice. 

Yuri is back to his usual self, a small smile gracing his features as he works beside Victor. Yuuri is grateful to be allowed to see the sides of them no one else gets to. Both happy and sad. He is grateful for this. 

Makkachin bounds back into the kitchen to investigate and whines at Victor, who crouches to give him attention, leaving Yuri to the cooking. "Are you hungry, too?" he asks and retrieves the dog food from one of the shelves above the counter. He's finally stopped leaving it on the top shelf so it's no longer out of reach for either of his partners. 

Yuri's cat brushes against Victor's legs, wanting food. Victor coos to her and she allows him to pet her when he promises her wet food.

"Hey, Katsudon," Yuri calls as he cracks an egg.

"Yeah?"

"Since I can't kick your ass in competition anymore, I'm gonna kick Kenjirou's. And break your records while I'm at it. And crushing JJ goes without saying so don't either of you doubt me."

Victor grins. "I would never doubt you. You are my precious student after all."

"Ew. Never call me that again."

Yuuri laughs, relieved to see Yuri determined and snarky again. 

"Yuuri?"

Yuri is looking at him with a million questions in his eyes, a bid for reassurance he so rarely asks for. There's love in it, that look, Yuri's answer to Victor's heart-shaped mouth when he says, ‘ _My Yuuri_ ’ or ‘ _My Yurochka_ ’. 

Yuuri meets Yuri's eyes and sees them brighten at the sight of the upward curl of his mouth. "Okay."

**Author's Note:**

> I have a whole headcanon about nicknames and things change so much when Yuri is in an official relationship with them. Basically, Yuri and Victor get Russian diminutives and pet names. Victor Yuri 'Yurio' or 'kitten' to tease him. Victor calls Yuuri every Russian and English endearment under the sun, maybe 'Yuuri-chan' too because it's cute and they've been together longer and Yuuri doesn't get a Russian pet name if Yuri's there. The 'Yuri-kun' for Yuri is usually just Yuuri's nickname for Yuri. Yuri does call Yuuri by his first name if they're together but sometime 'Katsudon' to be snarky/casual or in public. Also 'piggy' but it is affectionate. 
> 
> They have _syrniki_ for breakfast, which can be eaten with a number of things, but I like sour cream, so they like it too. I used the Cyrillic because it's probably not a popular as, like, _pirozhki_ or something. So sorry if it was confusing.


End file.
